Nothing So Loyal As Love
by Akatsuki210
Summary: They say that love is as strong as death, but this isn't quite true. It's stronger. PainKonan, oneshot, manga spoilers.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Naruto_ or any of its characters. Which should be obvious, really, since if I did own it, all the Akatsuki members would be immortal.

**Warning:** As with most of my stories, this one has some spoilers for the manga.

* * *

**Nothing So Loyal As Love**

Whenever Pain leaves the village on a mission, the ninja keeping watch at the main gate rings the bell that is rung at funerals, a herald of mourning and sorrow. When he returns, the ninja rings the bell that sounds at weddings, a sound of joy and hope.

When Konan brings Pain back to the village for the last time, the funeral bell is rung not once, but many times, over and over and over.

* * *

Pain's body lies in the largest temple in Amegakure for five days, so that citizens from all over the country can come and pay their respects. The residents of the Land of Rain leave offerings, according to their local traditions. Flowers and coins and blessings written on strips of paper form a small mountain surrounding the body, testifying to the people's devotion to their god.

Many of the shinobi make their own remembrances of their dead leader. They write his name on slips of paper that they tie to their wrists, embroider it into their clothing, write it in ink on their bodies, even tattoo or scar their skin to leave the name permanently embedded there.

Hundreds upon hundreds of paper lanterns float on the great inland sea that surrounds the village. The tiny candle flames within shine brightly until waves inevitably wash over them and snuff them out. In the grand scheme of things, even the lives of gods are brief, like candles.

* * *

The life of a ninja is often violent, and their world has seen many wars. It it perhaps no surprise, then, that every shinobi country has at least one location that is notorious for being haunted.

In the Village Hidden in the Mist, none of the natives will set foot in the arena where the infamous graduation exams were once held after the sun has gone down. Those visitors who have done so report hearing the sounds of battle, and of bereaved parents sobbing in the rows of seats that surround the battlefield.

In the Sand Village, there is a place on the walls where the wind whistling past sounds like voices. One man, who strained to hear what the voices were saying, must not have liked what he heard, because he threw himself off the high wall immediately afterward.

During one Chuunin Exam held in Konoha, a visiting Stone genin took a shortcut through the old Uchiha district on his way back to his lodgings. Halfway through the abandoned sector, a wound he had sustained during an earlier match reopened. Luckily for the boy--who knew nothing of medical ninjutsu beyond basic first aid--a passerby stopped to help him re-bandage the injury. Rumors that Uchiha Sasuke trembled and turned deathly pale when he heard the visitor's description of the man who had helped him may or may not be true.

The Land of Rain may be small, but it is one of the oldest shinobi countries, and it has had more than its fair share of wars. Sometimes, Konan wonders if this means it has more ghosts than others. It certainly seems that way to her.

* * *

She hears the first stories only a few weeks after Pain's death. They aren't terribly dramatic or remarkable stories, except for the fact that their protagonist is dead.

A merchant traveling to Rain from one of the outlying villages picked up a man who had been making the same journey on foot. The man was wrapped in a heavy cloak to protect himself from the ever-present rain, and didn't speak at all during the trip. Upon arriving at the gates of the village, the man lowered his hood to thank the merchant--who nearly tumbled off the cart in shock when he saw the auburn hair and multitude of piercings. He could only stare wordlessly as Pain strode through the main gate and disappeared into the fog.

The owner of a tea shop was closing up late one night when he was approached by a stranger whose face was hidden in shadows. He had intended to tell the man that they were closed for the night, but it was so cold and the rain was so heavy that he decided to offer the man a warm cup of tea before setting out for home. The man drank his tea gratefully, then left without a word. The tea-shop owner chased after him, reminding him that he had to _pay_ for the tea, but stopped short when the customer's face was illuminated briefly by a streetlight.

A group of small children were taunting one of their classmates when a man came up to them and told them to stop. Chastened by an adult's interference, the bullies scattered. None of the children recognized him, but their parents certainly did when they heard his description from their youngsters.

_A part of Pain-sama is still here in the village_, the living inhabitants of Rain say. _Our god cares about us too much to leave us for good._

* * *

The years go by, the decades go by, and the stories continue. Not all of them are true, of course. But Konan has become good at telling the true stories from the false ones, and every time she hears one of the former, she asks herself the same question.

_Why does he never appear to me?_

There doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to the apparitions. Rich feudal lords and struggling farmers have seen him. Elderly retired shinobi and young civilian children have seen him. Blacksmiths, scholars, fishermen, and teachers have all seen him. Everyone in the city is uplifted and reassured by these events.

Except for her.

_Yes, _she wants to say to them, _your god is still watching over you. He hasn't forgotten you. But he seems to have forgotten all about me._

* * *

She has been Amekage for almost twenty years now, and the village is thriving. There is always more work to do--trade agreements to negotiate, disputes to resolve, Chunnin Exams to organize. For the first time, there are adults in the village who were born after the civil war, who have no memories of Rain's dark past. For them, it's something they've read about in history books or heard about from their parents. The current generation of children is getting the chance to actually _be_ children, carefree and innocent like they should be.

_It's all thanks to Pain-sama and Konan-sama_, the older citizens say. Their names are still linked, as if anyone who utters one name is compelled to say the other along with it. But the link between the _people_ designated by those names seems to have been broken, for Konan has still not seen Pain since he died. His absence is like a ghost in itself, one that follows her everywhere she goes.

* * *

Konan is old now, and beginning to think about choosing a successor. There's no shortage of candidates; Rain has always produced strong shinobi. In a way, that's exactly the problem, because there's no clear best choice.

_Pain would know who to choose_, she thinks, and then clamps down fiercely on the thought. Pain might have known who to choose, but Pain isn't here. He's _somewhere_ around, that much hasn't changed in fifty years, but he doesn't seem to have any interest in talking to her anymore. She will have to make this decision on her own.

She spends hours reading and re-reading the candidates' personnel dossiers and mission reports. She listens to testimony from their senseis, their teammates, their subordinates. She consults with the feudal lords and the shinobi commanders.

Over and over, she hears the same things from the people she talks to. "Kuroken-san has the same kind of spirit that Pain-sama had." "Ikeuchi-chan's done a lot for Amegakure; Pain-sama would have respected her for that." "Fukumori-san may never have met Pain-sama, but he has his ideals at heart."

Sometimes it seems as though Pain is still ruling the Land of Rain, even so many years after his death.

* * *

It's been seventy years since Pain's death, and the once tiny and weak Land of Rain has become one of the most powerful nations on the continent. Where there were once five great shinobi countries, now there are six.

Konan is standing at her window, looking out at the rain. Although no longer the Amekage, she is still often called upon for advice by those who now administer the village. She should be on her way to a meeting now, but she can't seem to make herself walk out the door.

"Konan." The voice is deep and resonant, soft but commanding. Konan whirls, recognizing it instantly.

Age has bleached her hair as white as her ever-present flower, carved wrinkles into her face, made the gold stud she still wears in her lower lip look slightly absurd. But she is still a kunoichi, and her movements are quick and confident as she turns to face him.

Unlike her, he doesn't seem to have changed at all.

"Why haven't I seen you?" she asks. "I've missed you so much..."

He bows his head, something she certainly never saw him do when he was alive. "The people of this village still need me. They need my presence to remind them of the ideals and the dreams that I fought for, so that they won't give up. So that they won't be lulled into taking the easier path. That's why I've stayed behind here."

It doesn't escape her notice that he hasn't answered the question she asked. "But why haven't _I_ seen you?" she asks again, trying not to let the stress on the word "I" make her sound petulant.

"You've always followed me loyally," he says. She issn't quite sure what the emotion in his voice is. Is he sad? Disappointed? He sounds like someone who has just realized that his attempt at helping has done more harm than good. "But I didn't want you to keep following a dead man. I wanted so badly to see you, but I knew you would never move on if I did. I thought...that I owed you a chance to stand on your own." He hesitates. He has never been terribly good at apologizing. "I didn't realize it would hurt you so much. I'm...sorry."

She moves towards him, slowly, and reaches out to touch his cheek. She expects her fingers to go right through him, but they don't.

She falls into his arms.

* * *

"Honored Angel! What's wrong?"

It's a measure of the awe everyone has for Konan that, when she doesn't show up for the meeting, the Amekage herself goes to find her instead of just sending an underling.

Ikeuchi is one of Rain's best medics, so when she discovers Konan slumped in the window-seat, she uses chakra to link their bodies, letting her heart and lungs work for both of them since Konan's have stopped functioning. Holding tightly to Konan, she kicks the glass out of the window and jumps, running for the hospital the instant she hits the ground ten stories below.

Courtesy of Leaf's visiting emissary, shadows push people out of her way and a strong wind at her back propels her faster.

She sprints as fast as her legs and chakra will carry her, even though, deep down, she knows that it's already too late.

* * *

Years pass, decades pass. A century passes, and the world changes.

There are few people left old enough to remember the era of near-constant skirmishes, punctuated by larger wars, that once wracked the six great shinobi nations. For most, a prevailing peace broken only by occasional small conflicts is all they've ever known.

And yet, the voices of that earlier time cannot be entirely silenced. There are still stories.

In Hidden Mist, the old arena still echoes with the sounds of long-ago combats. In Hidden Sand, you can still hear voices in the wind if you listen carefully enough (which you probably shouldn't). In Hidden Leaf, the Uchiha District is once again vibrant and bustling, but there always seem to be a few more people wandering around than census records suggest that there should be.

In Hidden Rain, Pain and Konan are legends. No one really remembers anything about them except that they are responsible for Rain's current peace and prosperity. They are a god and an angel, and they are as mysterious as all deities. Their statues stand in the Great Plaza alongside those of all the other Amekages (except for Hanzou, because everyone agrees that he doesn't deserve a statue). They are venerated and worshipped, but no one is left who knew them when they were alive.

This does not mean that no one has ever seen them. The stories are still common. Pain and Konan continue to appear as they have always done, to rich and poor, young and old, shinobi and civilian alike. They chastise wrongdoers, bring hope to those who are sorrowful or afraid, remind people of what their ancestors struggled to achieve. In some ways, the various stories are very different from each other, but there is one thing they all agree on.

Pain and Konan have never been sighted alone. Whenever they appear, they are always, _always_ together.

* * *

**A/N:** I'm really happy with how this one turned out. I honestly think it's one of the best pieces I've ever written.

The title is actually paraphrased from Wyatt Earp's epitaph: "Nothing's so sacred as honor, and nothing's so loyal as love." Yes, I know that's really random, but it seemed to fit.

The Amekage who tries to save Konan is the OC from my earlier story "The Pure of Heart," although she was much younger in that one.

I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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